LEAVE THIS TOWN
by SawyerDonovan
Summary: It was only meant to be a storyline - but it changed into something darker, something deeper, something that could not be contained - something forbidden. But his decision changed her fate. In the tarnished world of the WWE never has the quest for love and gold been sweeter.
1. GHOST OF ME

**Well I re-wrote parts of this first chapter to reflect that the story now begins at Wrestlemania 29 - with the Punk facing the Rock as it should have been. The Summer of AJ Lee and CM Punk still happened but Lita was none to thrilled. After being injured by Lita, AJ returns with the intention of shattering the glass ceiling as Punk had once done and change the WWE. New chapter will be up by the end of the weekend!**

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own WWE - cause I would be making some different decisions right now nor do I own Daughtry…damn!

**_"Your imagination - And emotion's running wild_**  
**_Fueling my frustration_**  
**_Like a fire burning - Clock is turning_**  
**_I know it's getting underneath your skin_**  
**_I try to tell you now_**  
**_Don't look over your shoulder'  
Cause that's just the ghost of me"_**

DAUGHTRY, **GHOST OF ME**

APRIL 7, 2013 - SUNDAY  
WRESTLEMANIA 29  
CM PUNK'S HOTEL ROOM  
2:15 P.M.

She was poised on the center of the bed, kneeling, the white hotel sheets tousled around her, her hip cocked to the side in a stance of utter carelessness. She tilted her head back, her glossy hair falling artlessly around her shoulders and midway down her back in a shimmering mass of incandescent chestnut waves and curls, ribbons of her dusky skin peeked teasingly through the silken strands.

Her wrists and hands were taped white, the red X's stark against surface as she criss-crossed her arms in front of her chest, offering an tantalizing glimpse of the curve of her breasts.

The WWE Championship belt looped around her waist, the shallow curve of stomach, the bottom resting on her toned upper thighs. Her mouth, darkly glossed, curved upwards, teasing out the barest hint of a smile as the camera's flash faded, the final picture taken.

"My, my, do my eyes deceive me," AJ Lee muttered teasingly, fluttering her lashes, her voice tingled with amusement as she lowered her arm, pulling the sheet up to cover her bare form. "But I do believe that Mr. Big and Bad is actually blushing. See something that interests you?"

He lowered the camera, his skin pulled taunt across his cheekbones, shifting his stance as he raised his other hand to the back of his neck, nervously rubbing the nape, unable to turn away from the beautiful molten gold skin, the luscious figure displayed so evocatively before him.

"AJ, you're sprawled out practically naked on a bed asking me to take your picture. Considering this is about every hot-blooded man's fantasy, my "blush" should be the least of your concerns as to what I want to do to you right now." His tone roughened, darkened with promise. "So unless you want to be laid out of the bed for my entertainment of making Punk's name a distant memory, I wouldn't tempt me right now."

His purely male reaction caused color to flood her features, a dark red burning against her high cheekbones. That was a statement she definitely had not be expecting.

"You done pulling the kitty's tail now?"

"Spoilsport, I was playing nice." she muttered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And to think I thought you would be the well-behaved one."

"That was your mistake. Are we finished breaking and entering for this afternoon?" He asked, his tone amused as she childishly stuck out her tongue before checking his SmartPhone one final time. "Good, get your ass off the bed and dressed. We have ten minutes - if even that."

AJ's chocolate eyes lit up with glee as she quickly scrambled from the bed, dropping the Championship belt back into CM Punk's bag where she had originally found it before pulling her on her worn jean shorts and tank top. Shoving her feet into her flip flops, she twisted her hair into a knot that underneath concealed under a worn Cubs hat. She flashed him a brilliant smile, skipping forward, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door with her.

"AJ," he drew her to a stop, pulling her to his body, using his finger to lift her chin. "Are you certain this is what you want to do? Everything changes after today."

She leaned forward, her eyes softening at the concern she heard lacing his voice, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, lingering for a moment silently wishing her feelings had changed.

But her need for the bad-tempered, irritable, rough-mannered WWE Champion who would prefer to snarl rather smile at her had burned through her anger.

"Trust me, this is what I want." Her tone hardening with certainty as pulled away. "Redemption has never tasted so sweet."

APRIL 7, 2013 - SUNDAY  
WRESTLEMANIA 29  
TIMES SQUARE, NEW YORK  
7:59 PM

AJ leaned back, her slight frame relaxing against the plush sit on the rented limousine, tension leaving her shoulders as the lights of the MetLife Stadium faded into the background.

It had worked.

_Her plan had actually worked_, she thought with barely suppressed glee.

She had not been seen. They had escaped without being caught.

And the WWE Champion was none the wiser.

Only a few select individuals had even known she that she had been in New York/New Jersey only hours before Wrestlemania having finally checked out of the injury rehab facility she had been residing at in Florida.

But within the hour he would know that she had been there.

And so would she.

The bitch who had lied.

The bitch who had taken six months of her career.

Lita had been jealous, angered by the unspoken connection that had developed into something darker, something deeper during the CM Punk AJ Lee storyline.

And she had decided ending AJ's career was the only way to secure her future.

But she was back, she was stronger, gone were the tattered emotions, the torn feelings.

AJ lips curled into a smiled of satisfaction as the picture began to upload to her Twitter account.

She had to admit she looked good in the picture.

Sexy, wanton, in control.

She was going to set the wrestling world on fire.

Starting with one picture.

APRIL 7, 2013 - SUNDAY  
WRESTLEMANIA 29  
METLIFE STADIUM - NEW JERSEY  
11:35 PM

CM Punk was in a foul mood.

He ignored the shocked whispers, the murmured congratulations as he limped backstage, his battered body covered in sweat, blood dripping down the side of his face.

He had done the impossible.

He had defeated The Rock.

The Great One, the People's Champion.

Pinning him in the center of the squared circle, no interference, no excuses, proving to the naysayers that he was in fact the Best in the World.

He had retained his WWE Championship, still crowned victor in the glory of Wrestlemania.

But somehow this moment, his reigning desire, tasted bittersweet.

He lowered his aching body to the trainer's table, the medic pulling down his kneepad, gingerly testing the surgically repaired flesh and Punk closed his eyes, breathing harshly through his nose, hoping to ease the throbbing of his shoulder and ribs.

He wanted his tour bus, a cold Pepsi, and a soft bed.

He wanted to be alone.

But fate would not be so kind to the Champion, twice in one night.

"Cheating bastard!" the bitter accusation was spat as long-nailed fingers connected with his cheek, cracking his head to the side. "Lying asshole!"

"Fucking hell, Lita!" he snapped, his tone sharp, the anger that had shimmered inside of him, barely under control. "What is wrong with you?"

She saw his eyes, the dark green, sharply annoyed, his dark brows knitted together in a scowl as he glared at her as if she at that moment, nothing more than a nuisance, a minor annoyance to him and not the woman he claimed to love.

"What is wrong with me?" she demanded, her chest heaving in her fury. "This! This is what's _wrong_ with me," Lita hissed, thrusting her cellphone into his hand, shoving her red hair from her face.

_Holy shit_. The thought screamed through his mind as his body tightened, tensing at sight of the picture she had placed before him.

She was wearing his Championship belt.

_Only_ his belt as she sprawled out on his bed, taunting him with the seductive familiarity in which she touched her skin and his belt.

Her eyes sparkled, even her hair teased him, the curls begging for his fingers to forcefully wrap around the strands to use it as leverage to arch her neck back so he trail his tongue up the tender tendons, nipping as he went.

Her legs…fuck…her legs were far more tantalizing than he remembered, curvy thighs and slim calves, smooth skin and slender ankles, the kind that just naturally clenched a man's hips when he pushed her and down…

"When was she in our bed Punk?" Lita ripped the phone from his hand, wanting to rid him of the image that caused the savage look that leapt across his features at the sight before him. She thought she had already handled this issue involving the stalkerish little twit. "Have you been fucking her on the side?"

Punk ignored her ranting, his attention focused on the teasing message that taunted his fiancée.

CMPunk AmyDumas Now this is how you make the Best in the World look good. #ticktockbitch #timesup

AJ.

She was back.

And she was pissed.

_**"You're seeing in your dreams**_  
_**Wait - There's no rhyme or reasons**_  
_**Sometimes there's no meaning**_  
_**In the visions when you're sleeping**_  
_**Don't wake up and believe that**_  
_**You're looking at the ghost of me"**_


	2. LEARN MY LESSON

**Thank you for all the reviews and follows! New update faster than I thought!**

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own the WWE, characters or Daughtry Lyrics

"_**And I've felt this emptiness before  
**__**But all the times that I've been broken  
**__**I still run right back for more  
**__**You'd think that I'd learn my lesson by now"**_

DAUGHTRY, **LEARN MY LESSON**

APRIL 8, 2013  
MONDAY NIGHT RAW  
NEW JERSEY  
8:00 P.M.

The atmosphere was electric, a crackling anticipation that hummed throughout the vocal New Jersey crowd in the wake of CM Punk's shocking but undeniable Wrestlemania victory over the Great One. But more so for the "present" AJ had released the previous evening that was rapidly setting fire to social media.

Punk's broad shoulder gleamed under the lights, the skin pulled taunt and supple as the audience's jeers intensified as he was joined in the squared circle by his attention-whore "manager" and overtly jealous fiancée who had insisted they present a united front on Monday Night Raw in the wake of the AJ photo scandal to prove they were not shaken, not changed.

But he knew that it was a lie.

"A grave injustice has been committed against my client!" Paul Heyman's voice was shrill with indignation, his red face shining with sweat. "A grave injustice indeed!"

Punk rolled his eyes, barely containing his snort of annoyance at Paul's accusations and Lita's hysterical agreement.

Oh yeah, he was so already over this shit.

He had transformed from midcard filler to pipe bomb master and into the villain that the WWE Universe lusted for him to be and each week he was crucified by those who had granted him his very title. The pretense that he had enjoyed as the so-called Champion had faded, tarnished over time and he long grown weary of the backhanded politics of the McMahon empire.

It was as if CM Punk felt nothing.

Not a glimmer, not a spark of excitement, of desire, only the bitter aftertaste of dissatisfaction.

But that had changed with one picture.

With the return of his very own Harley Quinn.

AJ Lee, the little wisp of a girl, the only one who dared to step close to him in his anger and she was the only one he had ever allowed to touch him when he felt as if he were coming apart at the seams.

But she was not his.

They were not together, never together despite the fire barely contained beneath the smiles and lingering glances.

And Lita had made sure of it.

As if he sense that the Champion's patience was threadbare, Paul brought the microphone close to his mouth to continue his rampage.

"And not I am not speaking of the lack of respect you show your WWE Champion, but rather the vicious media frenzy that a washed up, wanna be _diva _has used to attack the sacred relationship you have all had the privilege to witness."

"AJ! AJ!" The crowds chants grew in intensity as the picture of AJ posed in Punk's Championship Belt appeared on the Titantron and Lita placed her hands over her ears attempting to drown out the roars of approval.

Fuck, Punk swore silently, a thin sheen of sweat covered his face, his body flushing and hardening at the sight of the image. It looked better than he remembered.

"That's right little piggies, chant for this pathetically obsessed child, that Jezebel will never be in a the same class as the lovely Lita!" Paul sneered, reaching out to place a comforting hand on the clearly angered red-head. "You've sank to a new low AJ. Breaking into the hotel room of the Champion, placing his belt against your dirty skin, showing the world exactly how disgusting you are," he paused, drawing in a deep breath. "AJ Lee, charges will be pressed against you."

_Let's light it up! Light it up! Light it up!_

AJ's music exploded throughout the arena and the crowd leapt to their feet cheering as she stepped out from behind the curtain, her signature crazy girl smirk in place, twirling the microphone in her hand.

Clad in dark wash mini-jean shorts, a vintage black and white Joker fitted tank top, she skipped towards the ring in her hot pink Converse sneakers much to Paul's dismay.

AJ stepped through the ropes, her body relaxed, pushing her glossy straightened hair over her shoulder in a shimmering darkened mass, her skin luminous beneath the lights.

She looked beautiful, refreshed…and extremely amused at Lita and Paul Heyman's fury.

"Oh Paul, Paul, you stupid son a bitch, do everyone a favor and shut the hell up." A smirk curved her lips. "But I admit you have me intrigued. You'll be pressing charges for what? Stealing the maid's hotel key? Maybe I did, better chance I didn't but you have no proof."

"Proof? Proof? My proof is spread all over the internet. Posted by you nonetheless."

"Okay, it's a photo Paul. I am assuming you have something else. No act of vandalism occurred, nothing was damaged and no items were stolen." AJ spun, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "I mean for all you know Punk gave me his hotel room key for a late night frolic or hell maybe he even played photographer."

Lita glanced at the Champion not missing the slight smirk she saw form on his lips, the animalistic gleam in his eyes and she felt the curl of anger form.

Punk had grown distant from her over the past months but she had brushed aside his lack of attention, his refusal to touch her as being distracted by his matches, his focus on the gold.

But really he had been thinking of her and that was unacceptable.

Lita never lost.

No matter who she had to destroy in the process.

AJ stepped forward, standing directly in front of Lita, no apology in her expression. "It doesn't matter how I got it, does it Lita. Simple fact is I made the Belt look good again."

"Shut your dirty mouth you whore and remember who you are talking too," Lita hissed, snatching the microphone from Paul's hand. "If you think you can threaten me, attempt to steal my fiancée and believe that you won't have hell to pay than you are sadly mistaken."

Lita tossed her mane of vivid red hair, holding her hand up, wiggling her fingers as the large diamond winked, mocking AJ.

"Fiancée, huh? Punk, I don't know whether to offer you my congratulations or my condolences." AJ scoffed, rolling her eyes, but her stomach clenched as she came face to face with the woman he intended to marry, to pledge his life and devotion too.

Now that was simple unacceptable to her.

"But really, threaten you - please grandma, you might break a hip if you fall wrong." Lita's expression hardened at her words. "Consider this is not a "threat," it's a promise."

AJ skipped to the ropes before tossing a taunt to the reigning WWE Divas Champion.

"Although don't you find it interesting that never once has your _fiancée_ once uttered any word of protest about my present to him unlike your pathetic threats of legal action. Makes you wonder just a little bit doesn't it."

Those words snapped Lita into action as she leapt forward, pushing past Punk's attempt to restrain her and fell exactly into the plan AJ had envisioned happened.

Smoothly she ducked before landing her foot in Lita's midsection and the sound of bone cracking echoed as AJ's clenched fist connected to her nose. Blood spurted down her face, stumbling Lita's balance was thrown off as AJ yanked her hair, tossing her over the top rope, grinning with satisfaction as she landed in a crumbled heap on the floor.

"Whoops!"

"What have you done!" Paul shrieked as AJ shrugged, arching her eyebrows in a gesture of innocence. "You're fucking crazy!"

"Crazy? Really, that's a little harsh. I was just helping yesterday's trash along. Now Paul be a good boy and leave." Her tone was lightly amused, but he heard the underlying steel threat and the glint in her chocolate eyes caused him to pause. "Your precious champion can do his own talking quite well from what I remember."

"You little leach…"

"She said now, Paul," Punk roared his patience ended for the former of owner of the ECW, his jaw clenching, his eyes glittering dangerously and instinctively Paul took a step back, stumbling slightly as he slide from the ring.

He turned, placing his hands on his hips, watching her, judging her movement. He could still feel the pull between them.

"Hello Punk," AJ sauntered towards the Champion, raising her hand, trailing her fingers across the curve of his ribcage laced by bands of muscle, and the solid wall of his abdomen rippled with the contact. She could easily become lost in the captivating power in the man that women shuddered over. "Enjoy your pictures?"

"Was there ever a question that I wouldn't?" Punk rasped, his voice rough and AJ could feel her blood stir, thickening at the sound. "What game are you playing at AJ?"

"Consider it the beginning of some unfinished business we may have," she bit her lip, drawing the plump fullness between her teeth as she watched his mouth curve, slow and devilish, in that familiar smile. "But first -" Her fingers snapped in a quick cracking motion. "Fuck you, Punk, for what you've done."

His golden-green eyes flared with something that resembled fierce satisfaction of her hand connecting against his skin and he moved his jaw, attempting to stretch out the sting.

He deserved that. And more, if he was truthful.

"Temper, temper, kitten," Punk taunted softly, his dissatisfaction for the night rapidly fading in the wake of fire as AJ tipped her chin, definitely staring into his amused eyes. "Proud of yourself?"

"I've only gotten started," AJ promised, her mouth curving at the thought as she glanced outside the ring to a cowering Paul Heyman and Lita withering in pain. "I see you still keep shit for company."

"Perhaps," Punk agreed, rubbing a hand against his jaw, the shadowy hollows of his cheeks. "You're asking for trouble."

"Idle threats, Punkie Bear, I'm not scared. Besides you lost that privilege to order me about. That moment is long dead."

She certainly had changed.

Punk recognized that fact immediately, so intense, so potent he felt the thickening of his blood, his loins.

She was small, delicately built, high-planned cheekbones, the tapered chin that tilted in a stubborn challenge towards him.

She knew what she had to do next, what it would cost her but she wanted that taste, that heat with a force that threatened to stagger her. There were a hundred reasons she knew to push him away but none seemed to move her.

"Besides judging from your expression, I dare say you've missed me."

"Is that so?" His own needs thickened his voice until there was a darkened edge to it. The timbre of his voice, the dilated glitter of his cause caused her to move.

She jumped up, her legs wrapping around his waist, she brought her arms around his neck, twisting her fingers in the exposed hair, she gasped at the warm contact, fitting herself more tightly into the curve of his body.

He forgot the importance of control, forgot everything but the fact that her mouth was an inch away from his.

Conveniently forgetting his fiancée.

"Yeah, it is." She breathed, stroking her tongue across his lower lip, hot and damp, nudging against his.

Her first reaction was satisfaction, pure and simple, when she heard his quick, indrawn breath.

She parted her lips, silently inviting him to taste her, to give himself with what he had denied himself.

His mouth was hot and wild, hard and deep, their mingle of breath growing unsteady and shallow. She shuddered, meeting the intrusion of his tongue with her own fiercely and she moaned into his mouth.

She increased the slant of her head, tucking hers more firmly into his shoulder, arousing her, satisfying her, consuming her. His tongue damp, tracing hers in a wicked pattern she had long forgotten.

She felt the strength of his hands on her body as they sleeked down the curve of her breasts to her sides caressing the swell of her hips. He cupped her buttocks, grasping, filling his hands, pressing her against the aching ridge of his manhood, and the raw sexuality of the gesture caused her tongue to curl against him.

Her seduction whispered around him, teasing his control as he dragged her harder against him, teasing his control as he dragged her harder against him and plundered.

Her body shuddered, pressing urgently against him, her hands trembling. She was breathless when she murmured his name, but he heard the shaky sound through the blood pounding in his temples.

She broke the kiss, drawing back only inches apart as they stared at one another, panting her mind swirling with one true fact.

She still wanted him.

But it wasn't the same.

His decision six months before had made sure of that.

Beneath the physical presence she could sense the changes. He was darker, more dangerous.

She had tasted the fury, the frustration, the old carefully buried needs fought their way to the surface.

But how she still wanted him. Wanted this.

His expression was hard and sensual, his lips still gleaming from the moisture of their kiss.

"Punk…"

_Sierra  
__Hotel  
__India  
__Echo  
__Lima  
__Delta  
__Shield_

AJ froze, her eyes widened, her body tensing as she slid into a standing position, frantically searching the audience for the Hounds of the Justice.

Punk rapidly cursed as the crowd parted as revealing the three descending men dressed in black police riot garb.

Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns.

The Shield.

Punk grabbed her hand, pulling her behind his back, trapping her in the corner of the ring, making sure he stayed in front of her. He felt two small hands slip around her waist from behind, her trembling body stepping closer as he placed his fingers over hers, her head resting on his back.

"I am going after all three and when I do - run." Punk warned, his voice low and intense, leaving no room for argument.

"Wait -" Her voice trailed off as they surrounded the ring, sliding in, their movements slow and measured.

He exploded into motion, fighting against Ambrose before throwing him over the top rope, but pain radiated through his head, his back connecting to the mat bouncing slightly as Reigns speared him.

Seth Rollins smiled in satisfaction before reaching out, grasping AJ around the waist and tossing her struggling form over his shoulder. She shrieked, struggling, kicking, her fists usually pounding at his back to no avail.

And with that AJ was gone.

"_**You'd think that I'd somehow figure out  
**__**That if you strike the match  
**__**You're bound to feel the flame"**_


End file.
